


Hate Sex is Great Sex

by Pastache



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastache/pseuds/Pastache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost a prequel to my work for Abbys-Jam-Juggler-</p><p>Jimmy can't handle Thomas' unhappiness </p><p>(Warning it starts with a lot of self-loathing but worry not! All is resolved in the end)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hate Sex is Great Sex

_Confused_. A word Thomas had been pelted with all his life. Never felt more acutely than _this_ moment; Jimmy’s lips pressed against his own, Jimmy practically snarling as he tried to pull Thomas’ shirt off, his hard-on pressing against Thomas’ thigh-

 

But back to where it all began.

 

A few weeks previously, Thomas and Jimmy had agreed to be friends. And Thomas had never felt more awful. Listening to Carson and Alfred and _Jimmy_ \- talk about him like he were some sort of monster- an animal with no more control over his basest instincts than some creature roaming in the wilderness. And Thomas was strong- he’d heard it all before, but listening to it from someone he thought liked him, and not only in _that_ way… it hurt. Maybe there _was_ something wrong.

            He was reserved anyway, no one noticed the difference in him- Thomas barely noticed it himself. He felt sick and dirty every time Jimmy talked to him- when he’d proffer his pack of cards, when he’d play a tune on the piano for Thomas’ amusement- even making eye contact felt like he was sullying Jimmy somehow.

            _Poor Jimmy, making pity friends with a man who rightly horrified you._

            He didn’t _mean_ to feel those things for Jimmy- he couldn’t help himself, but still Jimmy was sincere in his friendship and Thomas felt awful about it.

 

It got worse at dinner time.

            It was harmless stuff, really, no one meant anything by it, it was just unfortunate timing.

            “I can’t help bein’ jealous of Mr. Bates- you an’ Anna are the kind of couple you read about in _books_.” Ivy was blathering on. “Don’t you think, Jimmy?”

            “I hate romance novels.” Was Jimmy’s only comment.

            “Stop it Ivy, you’re making me blush.” Anna said with a fond smile, directed at her husband. “We’ve had our ups and downs- we’re just lucky to have found one another.”

            Thomas bet they were holding hands under the table. _Despicable_.

            “I hope _I_ find someone as good a match as you two.”

            “Ivy, need I remind you, you are in _service_ ; and you should focus on your _job_ if you hope to remain so.” Carson’s voice shut the conversation down. _Thank you_.

            “Well I don’t see why I shouldn’t keep my options open- things aren’t how they _were_ , and anyway…”

            Ivy’s voice was tuned out by the sudden tightness in Thomas’ chest. He frowned slightly and looked up- Jimmy was looking at him with a ‘ _my God she doesn’t ‘alf go on, does she_?’ look and something caught in Thomas’ throat. He looked away, blinking rapidly.

            “We can do what we want now- we don’t _have_ to stay in service- not if that’s not what we want,” she added quickly, probably for Mr. Carson’s benefit, _who would want to serve for the rest of their natural life?_ “We can have our _own_ lives, and get _married_ if we want.” _God doesn’t she realize how obvious she’s being- staring at Jimmy like that…_

Thomas was suddenly aware he was going to cry.

            _I can’t have my own life though, can I- don’t you dare **look** at Jimmy- if you weren’t… in the first place you’d never be this upset and you could do whatever you wanted and you could have a bloody friend without dirtying him with your filthy desires- you utterly- beyond foul- you…_

            “Excuse me.” It couldn’t be helped- Thomas knew Jimmy was staring at him- _because you’re always bloody aware of Jimmy aren’t you_  - and Thomas bolted from the table.

            “Mr. Barrow _where_ do you think-”

            “I’ve forgotten… something.” Thomas was out the door already, head bowed. He could feel colour rising in his cheeks and his voice came out scratched on the last word- he slammed the bathroom door shut behind him and sank to the floor, head in his hands.

            _Had to make a bloody scene didn’t you, you pathetic good-for-nothing bastard. They all know why you bloody got up an’ I bet they’re all having a good laugh at your expense. Bet if you bloody tried you could do something about yourself- don’t they have those courses, up in London? Oh no, you’re too cowardly to try all that- too cowardly to stay on the front, same old shite story, Thomas. Christ don’t you get sick of it sometimes? No, you’re too bloody obsessed with yourself- you could do **anything** but you insist on falling down the same bloody holes every bloody time..._

“Thomas?” A knock on the door.

            Thomas lifted his head, taking a few shallow breaths and furiously rubbing his eyes.

            “What?”

            “Thomas, what’s wrong?”

            _‘Course it would be bloody Jimmy- see how much he cares- what you’ve made him do- an’ he hasn’t any indecent desires to convince him to like you- even after everything he’s still-_

“Nothin’.” Thomas tried to make his voice sound normal.

            “You don’t sound like it’s nothin’.”

            “Ah- I was caught short, Jimmy.” _Embarrassing, yes. But much less than what you deserve._ “Didn’t think announcing it’d go down well.”

            “Thomas I’m not a bloody idiot, let me in there.”

            “Jimmy! I told you I’m fine- jus’ leave me alone, alright?”

            “No I will not- tell what the matter is. I’m your friend, I can help.”

            “Jimmy- honestly, I’m _fine_ \- I must’ve eaten somethin’ dodgy at luncheon- you don’t wanna come in ‘ere now.”

            “Fine. But we’re playin’ cards when you come out.”

            “Alright, alright, jus; give me some privacy here, alright?”

            Thomas could have sworn he heard a quiet snigger. He put his head in his hands as he heard Jimmy’s hesitant footfalls up the hall.

            _He bloody cares for you and you betray him every day in your head you stupid bloody fool._

 

            He dismissed himself early from the servant’s hall- placating Jimmy with a few rounds of cards, careful to appear his usual dark broody self.

            On his bedstead he kept a newspaper- something he’d tucked away for later reading, something itching the back of his mind.

            It was Freud’s latest scandal; honestly, he’d have to be careful he wasn’t disbarred- or whatever the equivalent for disbarring a Doctor was.

            _Conditioning… hmm…._

Until his next half day Thomas itched to go into Ripon; he could have asked Mrs Patmore, or Alfred, or even bloody Jimmy to go, but he wanted to do this for himself. And what did he get? Elastic bands. The thick, durable kind which provided a satisfying sting when you snapped them against your wrist. _Let the conditioning begin_.

            It was fairly easy, after a while, and Thomas actually found he felt happier in himself, as if by accepting what was wrong with him was wrong, and taking action against it, he was excused for something he’d been born with. The only problem was Jimmy.

            Thomas had to be careful- no one else would take any notice but Jimmy might- and he couldn’t bear to explain, but around Jimmy was the time he needed to keep himself in line the most. Sometimes he’d just wait, counting the number of thoughts, images, desires until after Jimmy had gone, and dealing out a harsh punishment- surprising, that. What a little piece of rubber could do to you. Red welts, fairly temporary, appeared on Thomas’ wrist, and he had to keep plenty in his pockets, prone to snapping them by pulling them back too far.

 

            “What are you doin?”

            The punishment had become reflex now. _Think about Jimmy – **snap** – think about how he cares for you- **snap** \- _Thomas had forgotten it wasn’t a particularly normal thing to do. He shuffled his hand of cards.

            “What d’you mean?”

            “You keep snappin’ that bracelet.” Jimmy put down his winning hand and Thomas rolled his eyes.

            “It’s an elastic band- I needed it for… somethin’ or other, I forget- I was jus’ fiddlin’.”

            “Hmm.”

            “Stop gettin’ your breaches in a twist. Ah- you win, deal us another hand.”

            “Alright.” Jimmy gathered up the cards, deliberately running his finger along Thomas’ hand as he did.

            **_Snap_** _._

Jimmy narrowed his eyes.

 

            Jimmy started noticing- or more accurately started counting. Thomas hadn’t taken that bloody elastic band off in days- how long had he been wearing it?

            And it didn’t take much to figure out what he was doing. The most obvious tell was the one in the morning- the first time Thomas laid eyes on Jimmy.

            **_Snap_** _._

That bloody snapping sound haunted Jimmy. Every time he heard it- it was like he was feeling the pain of it himself. Because it was _his_ fault. He kept up with Freud avidly, he knew what Thomas was bloody doing- but _why?_ Sure, they’d never spoken about his… _ahem_ … preferences, but that didn’t mean Jimmy thought he should… and what would this accomplish exactly, anyway?

            He drummed his glove-clad fingers angrily on the table one evening, trying to distract himself with a newspaper. _Even Freud doesn’t think you can cure it you idiot- and you won’t even talk to me about it, well fine screw me for caring, I didn’t bloody ask you to do this, it’s not my fault, but I’m not going to lose my only friend because you’re too bloody selfish…_

            His eyes stopped at an ad. “ _Choose Your Own Path!”_ , it boasted. _Yeah, right. I know what you’re about_. He scanned the article, venom building at the back of his throat. _It’s **your** bloody fault my friend is in this mess- and that I’m in it with him._

            Because, honestly? Thomas had been _odd_ these past few weeks; quiet, snappy- even with Jimmy and that had _never_ happened before. He would go to bed early, stay working late- Jimmy was losing his only friend to an _elastic band_.

            _Not for long_. Jimmy slammed the newspaper down on the table, making Alfred jump.

            “What’s the big idea? You didn’t give me half a shock.”

            Jimmy didn’t bother responding as he marched out the door and up the stairs.

            _Right you bastard, you’re stopping this right now and I’m not giving you a choice in the matter- it’s a stupid bloody thing to do-_

            Jimmy barged into Thomas’ room. Thomas was sitting, moping; reading another bloody book, probably on how else he could twist himself inside. Jimmy slammed the door behind him for added emphasis.

            “Jimmy…?” Thomas rose and looked at him warily. “Are you alright?” There were raw red marks on his wrist- _how hard did you have to snap a bloody elastic band for it to leave marks_?

“No, Thomas. Are _you_ alright? What the bloody hell is goin’ on with you?”

            “Nothin’, Jimmy, I-”

            “Don’t give me that _shite_. You can tell whatever you want to Anna or Mr bloody Carson- but you don’t treat _me_ like I’m some… some stupid sappy… what is that?” He pointed to Thomas’ wrist and Thomas actually hid his hand behind his back. _Like an errant bloody school boy_.

            “Nothin’, I told you…”

            “No. _Thomas_.” Jimmy got into Thomas’ personal space, grabbing his arm despite Thomas’ protests and pointed to the marks. “How did these get here, then? You think I’m a bloody idiot?!” He pulled the wretched piece of elastic off and pulled it until it broke apart, dropping it to the floor with a satisfied grimace. Thomas backed off against his desk, his arms raised in surrender.

            “Jimmy- look… y’wouldn’t… you wouldn’t _understand_.”

            “Of course I _understand_ Thomas- y’think I don’t know what you’re doin’?”

            Thomas scoffed and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “No- _look_ at me, Thomas.” He took a step closer and nearly growled in frustration. “Y’can’t keep doin’ this- you have to stop it.”

            “And why do I _have_ to?” Thomas snapped, rubbing his temple with one hand, immediately regretting being short with Jimmy.

            “Because it’s bloody selfish- you can’t keep… I don’t want to have to worry about you all the time-”

            “Oh, _right_ , I see- so because Jimmy bloody Kent thinks the world revolves around him... it’s none of your business, _James_.”

            “ _Don’t_ call me that.” Jimmy shoved Thomas, two hands flat on his shoulders and Thomas immediately backed down.

            “Look- jus’- don’t worry about it, alright- I’m tryin’… I’m tryin’ to fix things. To stop… anyway. It’s a good thing- don’t worry I’m just… it’s an _experiment_ -”

            “Are you mad?” Jimmy almost laughed. “You honestly think… I can't _believe_ you sometimes, Mr. Barrow- I really can’t- look.” Jimmy tilted Thomas’ chin to look him in the eye and Thomas’ hand went to his wrist- but found no elastic band there to soothe himself.

            “Look at you- I mean it’s bloody pathetic- you of all people- an’ I bloody admired that you didn’t give a toss what people thought about you-”

            “Of course I bloody care!” _Finally_ Thomas was angry, he shook Jimmy off. “You try bein’ me for _one_ bloody day- jus’ see how you like it- an’ then see what it’s like when your only friend in the world wants to stop you doin’ the one _good_ thing he’s ever done- you have no right-”

            “ _No right_?! _You_ came into my bloody bedroom- _you_ ran into that fight- _I have every bloody right_ you- argh!” Jimmy broke off and spun around, pacing the room furiously, hands folded behind his back. He turned to glare at Thomas, who was currently aiming a hand towards his packet of cigarettes.

            “Don’t. I can’t stand my clothes smelling of smoke when I go upstairs.” He spoke without thinking and Thomas scoffed. He brought his hand back to his side though.

            “I can’t _believe_ you. All this- over _me_? I’m not bloody _worth_ it, Thomas.” And _now you’re bloody blushing like a maid Thomas, for God’s sake-!_

            “Who said anythin’ about _you_. I’m doin’ this for me.”

            “You’re gonna change everythin’ about who you are with an elastic band?” Jimmy snorted, “ _it can’t be done!_ ” He didn’t mean to say it in such a sing-song tone, like he was mocking Thomas- but, this had gone too far as it was.

            “It’s got everythin’ to do with me- I know it does- I told you _Thomas_ – I’m not an idiot.”

            “An’ I told you, _James_ \- it’s none of your business.”

            Jimmy clenched his fists. “Careful. You don’t stop sayin’ that and I might actually hit you.”

            “Then I _suppose-_ ” Thomas challenged, at last meeting his eye, not flinching away like some pathetic school girl with a crush “-you’d better leave my bedroom before you feel tempted to follow through, _James_.”

            “You bloody-” Jimmy grabbed Thomas by his shoulders, glaring when he flinched.  _I’m not going to bloody hit you you bloody imbecile please pull yourself together and act like a bloody grown man._

            “See I _know_ this is about me- because whenever I _touch_ you-” he demonstrated with one finger against Thomas’ chest and Thomas, predictable Thomas- “you flinch. And your blue eyes go wide like bloody saucer plates I _know_ you Thomas, so stop bein’ an arse and let me help you.”

            Thomas waved him off, shoving him back with maybe one twentieth the strength Jimmy had before. _Still can’t stand the idea of hurting me you sappy- I’m not so delicate_.

            “I don’t want your pity.”

            “You’re not gettin’ it. But I’m not sittin’ here watchin’ as you throw yourself over like this.” He folded his arms, gritting his teeth, trying to work out the best possible way he could help Thomas without hitting him upside the head repeatedly.

            “I don’t want you to change.” He grit out. “I don’t think there’s anythin’ wrong with you- apart from your sappy head- an’ anyway it can’t be done. I don’t _care_ , Thomas. You could bugger Mr. Carson on the dining table an’ I wouldn’t give a damn,” He’d never seen horror and disgust spring up in someone’s face so quickly, “I don’t care about all that- I never did- it were only Alfred…” he successfully skidded around the Topic-That-Must-Not-Be-Spoken-Of, “anyway. I don’t _care_. So don’t do this. You’ve become a right miserable sod- er- sorry- _git_ the last few weeks and I want my friend back.”

            Thomas looked at him for a long moment, stunned into silence, and Jimmy felt upcoming victory.

            “I’m not bloody doin’ this just for _you_ \- get that through your thick skull.”

            Jimmy could have howled in frustration. “Thomas. I. _don’t_. Care. Stop doin’ it.”

            “I can do what I bloody well please, I don’t need your _permission_.”

            Jimmy pit his fist to his mouth and bit his knuckle, swallowing a scream. He marched up and pushed so Thomas was pinned between him and the desk-

            “What the bloody hell are you doin’ Jimmy- get _off_ me.” Thomas pushed at his shoulders, firmly, but with no force, and Jimmy finally understood what ‘seeing red’ was.

            “God _bloody_ Damnit Thomas- you’re so bloody- you’re bloody- you- ah!” He pushed forward and tried to convey the madness he was under by- _oh right and now you’re bloody kissing him, good going Jimmy, that’s bloody perfect that is, very clever_.

            “Finally. You’ve shut up.” Jimmy said against Thomas’ lips. Thomas, who had gone absolutely stock-still.

_Confused_. A word Thomas had been pelted with all his life. Never felt more acutely than _this_ moment; Jimmy’s lips pressed against his own. Nervously he tapped Jimmy’s shoulder.

            “Erm. Jimmy. What’re you…” All of the ‘conditioning’ was leaving his head- God but he _wanted_.

            “Shut. Up.” Jimmy growled. “Stop bloody thinking- I can see you doing it- just bloody kiss me, will you?” He grabbed Thomas’s face and pulled him closer and _still_ Thomas seemed to be processing- so Jimmy took Thomas’ hands and placed them on his waist.

            “Bloody kiss me or I’ll kick your teeth in.” And _finally_.

            “Oh God- _Jimmy_.” Thomas had found his wherewithal and he was giving as good as he got, hand moving to cup Jimmy’s cheek, going to the back of his neck and running through the back of his golden hair. Jimmy seemed like he was trying to _climb_ Thomas, fury and desperation and... His hands weren’t still for long, moving, or rather, removing Thomas’ dress shirt without a second thought,

            “Take this off. Now.”

            “Jimmy-” Thomas didn’t stop him, but did pause, to cup his cheeks and press soft kisses to Jimmy’s lips. Jimmy bit Thomas’ lip firmly, _none of that_ , and Thomas groaned.

            “Don’t you bloody dare start gettin’ soppy on me. This is just… whatever this is, it’s not that.” He’d gotten the buttons undone, and eased the shirt off Thomas’s shoulders.

            “This too.” Jimmy started to pull at Thomas' undershirt, but Thomas grabbed his wrists, and said, when he could tear himself away from Jimmy’s lips,      

            “Jimmy- what’re you doin’?”

            “Don’t know. Makin’ it up as I go along. Stop thinking.” He tried to break Thomas’ grip but _finally_ Thomas seemed to have gotten the right idea and he pushed, walking Jimmy backwards with his arms up, using his lips as a leverage point to push back, and as they performed this odd dance- walking Jimmy backwards- he dropped Jimmy’s arms and Jimmy, already there, helped Thomas get him out of his tails, pausing to work on the waistcoat before he _shoved_ Jimmy’s shoulders and Jimmy found his back on Thomas’ bed.

            Thomas didn’t pause but crawled over Jimmy- _he’s already hard- I must be bloody good then_ \- Jimmy thought snidely as he ran his hand up Thomas’ chest to his stupidly perfect face. Jimmy was pinned, Thomas lying flat on top of him, with his weight on his hands either side of Jimmy’s head, and their legs were in-between each other’s, a pretty picture, so when Thomas moved his leg so his thigh was somewhere Jimmy could rut against, Jimmy felt a flush run all the way from his cock to his face.

            “Ah- _Christ_ -” He bucked his hips up, and Thomas made a low sound and moved his mouth to Jimmy’s neck, hands working on his tie. Jimmy, still moving firmly against any friction he could get, started to pull Thomas’s undershirt off, forcing Thomas to pause in his- frankly wonderful- assault on his neck, to kneel up and tear it off, throwing it across the room as Jimmy pulled him back down.

            “What- happened to all the- the _conditioning_ \- ey?” His snark could barely get out in gasps, pathetic, really.

            Thomas ground his hips down against Jimmy firmly, and Jimmy scrabbled his hands- _stupid still bloody got my gloves on_ \- ripping them off and digging his nails into Thomas’ back.

            “Shut up about it. This works better.”

            “Good point. I’ll remember that.” Jimmy said wryly as Thomas kissed the corner of his smirk.

            They lay like this, lost in kissing and touching- Thomas found the courage to run his hand down Jimmy’s beautiful chest once he’d gotten his shirt off- and Jimmy made fine work of clawing and biting any surface of Thomas he could get at- (like a puppy with his favourite toy, but not). Until they both remembered, together, that there were ways to _relieve_ oneself of overpowering lust.

            “Jimmy-”

            “If it’s poetry or promises I’ll sock you one, I swear I will.”

            “No.” Thomas grunted, moving his hips up and against Jimmy slowly, very aware that he wasn’t going to last very long if they did anything more. “What’re we- I mean- can I…?”

            Jimmy frowned. “Well I’m not letting you ram it up my arse.”

            Thomas snorted and huffed a chuckle against Jimmy’s ear. “Right. Glad we got that sorted. So that’s off the list-”

            “Don’t you think just ‘cos you’re an experienced sodomite you get to be in control here.”

            “Alright, Jimmy.” Thomas leaned up, eyebrow arched, “Why don’t _you_ tell me what you want to do.”

            Jimmy flushed. “I don’t- know.”

            Thomas pursed his lips.

            “Alright- alright- shut up- stop lookin’ at me like that, what are our options?”

            Thomas laughed again and Jimmy shoved him,

            “Stop laughin’ at me! Just because I don’t know what kinds of sordid things men like you do- stop bloody laughin’ I mean it! And another thing- I don’t like lyin’ under you like this- just cos I’m bloody shorter-” Thomas effectively shut him up with a firm kiss, and Jimmy growled and bit down on Thomas’ lip until Thomas pulled Jimmy’s hair to make him let go.

            “That _hurts_.”

            “Good. It was supposed to.” Jimmy smirked, and Thomas ran his eyes over Jimmy’s chest, admiring the blush on his face that spread down to his collar bones.

            “Stop _lookin’_ at me like that.”

            “Stop kissing me in the middle of yelling in my face.”

            “Stop making me so angry I feel the need to.”

            Thomas cocked his head. “You were so angry… you kissed me? Ah, yes, now I see, of course- that makes perfect sense, Jimmy.” His hand had been absently tracing patterns on Jimmy’s stomach, and now moved a little lower, waiting for Jimmy to smack it away.

            “I- don’t question my logic, Thomas, it’s not polite.”

            “ _Mr. Barrow_ to you.” Thomas’ hand reached the waistline of Jimmy’s trousers.

            “Yeah- cos I’m really gonna call you that when I’m lettin’ you touch me up.”

            “I am doing nothing of the sort.” His hand was undoing Jimmy’s trousers, and Jimmy was tilting his hips up to help him slide them off. “I’m offended by the very idea…”

            “Oh- Thomas I can’t- just hurry up and…” Jimmy’s nerve had frayed, he quickly shuffled, kicked off his trousers, and got Thomas’ hand on his hard-on, over his underwear.

            “Oh- _yes_ \- see, _this_ I can manage- I do this to m’self- I… you have to take yours off too- else I’ll feel silly.”

            Thomas nodded, taking a moment to kiss from behind Jimmy’s ear to down his neck before he knelt up, letting Jimmy help him wriggle the damned trousers off so they were even.

            “Stop kissing me like _that_ \- makes me feel... all maiden-y.” Jimmy scowled and Thomas kissed his lips.

            “Just cos we’re blokes- doesn’t mean we have to _compete_ at this. Some men- even ones who like women, like it gentle, you know.”

            “Well I bloody well don’t,” Jimmy face was fiery red, “so hurry up and _do_ something.”

            “What do you want me to do?” Thomas was making his best attempts at rubbing him off, over the material of his underwear.

            “I don’t know, what can we do that isn’t…”

            “Buggery?”

            “Yes, that. Not that.”

            “Well we can always just bring each other off with our hands, if you’d prefer.” Thomas brought his lips to Jimmy’s shoulder, and see, Jimmy _did_ like it; Jimmy was closing his eyes and groaning softly while Thomas peppered his neck with firm but gentle kisses.

            “Ah- _yes_ \- maybe that… we could… do that.”

            “Yes.” Thomas said tightly. “I’m not sure I’m goin’ to last that long at anythin’ else- it’s been too long an’…”

            “Yes- yes alright, how do we- I mean- practically…”

            “Come over here.” Thomas carefully rolled to the side, implying Jimmy should mirror him. “Good thing you’re left handed,”

            “Glad it has _some_ use.”

            Thomas pulled Jimmy closer, kissing him firmly, how Jimmy said he wanted it, but easing his mouth open with nothing but gentleness, his hand squeezing firmly, and Jimmy bucked his hips up. Thomas caught Jimmy’s left hand and moved it cautiously to his stomach, guiding it- but Jimmy was overeager, pushing his hand under Thomas’ waistband before Thomas could question if he were _sure_.

            “I’m not delicate, Thomas- you think I’d be ‘ere if I hadn’t made up my mind?”

            Thomas bit his lip, groaning softly,

            “Ah- Jimmy- alright.” His face was flushed, hair usually slicked back perfectly falling over his face. Jimmy thought it looked lovely. _How can you hate something that makes you feel like this? Even I don’t mind it and I’m not even…_

            “Jimmy…” Thomas voice was strained, the flat of his palm rubbing up and down, pressing closer and Jimmy helped him, rutting his hips.

            “Ah- Jimmy- I’m not gonna… this is- too much… embarrassing really.”

            Jimmy kissed Thomas’ mouth, twisting his wrist and squeezing, the way he liked it done when he was by himself, and Thomas made a _noise_ at the back of his throat.

            “Stop- I can- _oh_.” Thomas was close to babbling, he could feel it- the pressing need unfulfilled by months, and he pushed Jimmy’s hand away, bringing it up to his face to kiss his palm and Jimmy’s knuckles and Jimmy had his eyes shut- _he wasn’t going to last long either_.

            “Let’s… let me try somethin’? Please?”

            “Yes, alright. Thomas.” Jimmy was a little out of breath but when Thomas moved, rolling Jimmy back over and leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down his neck, his chest, his stomach- Jimmy’s eyes opened.

            “What’re you- _ah_.” Thomas mouth- _God but that’s obscene-_ over his underwear, pressing against his hard-on… Jimmy managed not to buck his hips up.

            Thomas, moved his hands slowly to pull the final garment off, and Jimmy didn’t stop him, putting one hand to Thomas’ shoulder and the other to the back of his neck- _don’t push his head- he probably won’t like that- but please don’t let me be naked for long- if I look down right now- Ah Christ bloody hell shite_

Thomas, on his own initiative, had taken most of Jimmy into his mouth.

            “You’re- _oh_ \- you’re- God but how are you- isn’t it… oh bloody hell Thomas.”

            Thomas made a noise of approval, which- _ah yes that feels good_. Jimmy felt a stab of panic.

            “Oh shite _Thomas_ \- I’m not goin’ to make it- oh Christ I’m already- I think I’m goin’ to-”

            Thomas moved his mouth- _that beautiful obscene gorgeous mouth oh Christ Jimmy no wonder people get put in prison oh_ and rubbed circles with his thumbs on Jimmy’s hips.

            Jimmy dared to look down but it was too much- Thomas’ head between his legs, looking up at him with those bloody blue eyes- Jimmy bucked his hips up, moving to get more friction, digging his nails into Thomas’ shoulder, but Thomas didn’t notice, he took Jimmy’s squirming in stride and brought his palm over the tensed muscles on Jimmy’s stomach.

            “I can’t- I’m goin’ to- Oh bloody _Christ_.” Jimmy’s head rocked back against the pillow, mouth hanging stupidly open as he let Thomas finish him off- the world went away for a moment and when he came back to he was out of breath and his body trembled, over sensitized.  Thomas had produced a handkerchief from somewhere and was spitting into it.

            “Oh.” Jimmy wrinkled his nose. Then he blushed, even darker than the red colour left by pleasure’s throes, “I didn’t last very long, did I?”

            “I’ll take it as a compliment.” Thomas’ lips were very red- his cheeks too- and the colour seemed to have filled in down his chest. He was watching Jimmy, slightly out of breath himself. Jimmy, as his bloodlust faded, found some trace of hesitance.

            “Thomas- I’m not sure I can…” he sat up, wishing he could cover up, but Thomas’ mouth had claimed his underwear- he’d have to borrow some…

            “It's fine.” Thomas swallowed, shutting his eyes as he tried to ease some of his lust away. “I can- I can finish m’self off…”

            “No- you- I’m returning the favour- that’s what I’m doin’ this for.” Jimmy pulled Thomas’ shoulders, cupping his cheeks and kissing his neck- sucking lightly on the skin and Thomas’ body tensed. _Hmm, like that do we?_

            “Is that- what this- is…” Thomas was struggling to make sentences.

            “Sh. No thinkin’, remember?” He moved, deciding that sitting between Thomas’ legs was the best way to go about this- he couldn’t handle any more touching for the time being- too sensitive, but with Thomas flat on his back, perfectly under control… _Yes_. Jimmy thought clearly. _I want it this way_.

            Feeling a little silly, he bent forward and continued pressing his mouth to Thomas’ neck- his hand dipping and Thomas lifted his hips to help him get rid of the final bit of material between now and Jimmy’s sanity, and Thomas _hissed_ when Jimmy dug his teeth in, just a little, but it wasn’t a hiss of pain. _It’s just like when you do to yourself, Jimmy, easy peasy_.

            Thomas’ hand found purchase on Jimmy’s shoulder and Jimmy focused on the task at hand, moving his wrist just so- _Thomas goes bright red when he’s about to… interesting_. Thomas had his eyes shut, making little noises with every touch of Jimmy’s lips and he arched his hips up without quite being able to help it.

            “Ah, Jimmy- I’m goin’ to… I’m not gonna last any-”

            “Yes.” Jimmy found a spot behind Thomas’ ear to tease with his teeth and Thomas made this sort of whimpering noise, rutting his hips into Jimmy’s hand and Jimmy didn’t stop, but he _squeezed_ and Thomas’ hand clutched his shoulder, the other raking up through the back of Jimmy’s hair, and then one gasp and Thomas _tensed..._  his body going lax after a few moments. Jimmy decided he liked seeing Thomas like that.

            “ _Oh_ , Jimmy, _Oh_.”

            “No sappy business.” Jimmy kissed Thomas’s lips- _who cares where they’ve been_ , and wiped his hand on Thomas’ stomach.

            “You little- _hey_.” Thomas wrinkled his nose at the mess, grabbing his handkerchief, though his movements were a little lazy.

            “You shouldn’t have made a mess if you didn’t want to clear it up.” Jimmy tsked, and stood from the bed, going through Thomas’ draws until he found something he could wear.

            “That’s not fair- I cleaned up for… are you wearin’ _my_ underwear?” Thomas sat up on the bed, content in his nakedness. A flush was still evident on his cheeks and chest.

            “Well you put your mouth all over mine- I can’t wear _those_.” He cast a pointed look to the pile of discarded clothing beside the bed.

            “Don’t remember you complainin’ at the time.” Thomas watched Jimmy pull his clothes on with a tilted head and a stupid smile on his face. “Pass us a cigarette, please, I always have one after…”

            “Alright, just this once- I’m putting my tails on the other side of the room, though.” He folded his coat up to protect it, and threw Thomas’ his packet, pulling on his trousers and shirt before he passed the lighter. Once he’d gotten his tie and waistcoat on he sat on the end of the bed, and poked Thomas’ leg.

            “Put some bloody clothes on- you look obscene.”

            “No I shan’t. I like to bask in it when I can.” Thomas had a lit cigarette hanging from his lip. Jimmy reached for the pack and let Thomas light him.

            “And what if someone comes in here?” Jimmy sighed. “Just your undergarments will do, _please_?”

            “Fine, fine.” Thomas did as he was bidden, plucking his cotton shirt from across the room and his underwear from the foot of the bed, and lying back with his hands folded behind his head, eyes closed, completely at peace.

            “So no more elastic bands, then?” Jimmy asked, fidgeting.

            Thomas opened an eyes. “D’we get to keep doin’ _this_?”

            “Are you blackmailing me into your bed?”

            “Maybe.” Thomas reached for the ashtray to flick the long column of ash away. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t- you seemed to enjoy yourself.”

            “An’ if we get caught?”

            “We didn’t get caught now, did we- an’ you weren’t bein’ quiet.”

            Jimmy flushed. “You rotten- I was in the heat of things- I’ll be in better control next time.” He flicked a bit of ash at Thomas pointedly.

            “Ah- so there will be a ‘next time’ then?”

            “Maybe. If you take on my polishin’ work, I’ll consider it.”

            Thomas snorted, “Yeah, right- I’ll just get the hallboys to do it.” He blew out a stream of smoke, “No one will suspect a thing- you’ve already made it _very clear_ you aren’t interested in all that- if they try to accuse us- well, you can remind them what happened last time I tried to lay a hand on you.”

            Jimmy looked a little guilty. “Sorry about all that- I didn’t- I think was… I think that I’d have responded… _differently_ , if Alfred hadn’t been watching.”

            Thomas arched an eyebrow. “You’re sayin’ all I have to do to get your grubby little mits off me is invite Alfred in- well then…”

            “You bloody-” Jimmy shoved Thomas’ leg, “as if you haven’t been silently beggin’ me for this-”

            “As I recall, you were the one who kissed _me_.”

            Jimmy shook his head, leaning over Thomas to stub out his smoke, and Thomas caught his wrist and pressed a kiss to it.

            “ _Don’t_ do that.” Jimmy allowed the touch and pulled his hand away when Thomas released it.

            “Ah you’ll see- I’ll convince you into letting me woo you before too long.”

            “Not bloody likely- an’ I’ll flirt with Ivy every time you try.”

            “That’s not fair. Maybe _I’ll_ flirt with Daisy every time I see you do it-”

            “Don’t you dare! As if she’d go for you, anyway, you’re just a debaucherous old man- who-”

            “Careful, Jimmy, you’re soundin’ almost _jealous_.” Thomas leant his head back against the pillow, a smug smirk on his face, cigarette in place, and he stretched out- exposing his irresistible neck. Jimmy sniggered.

            “What?” Thomas’ eyes cracked open.

            “Oh, nothin’, nothin’.” Jimmy started giggling, “Only you might want to try flirtin’ with Ivy yourself- ask if you can borrow some cover-up.” He broke off into fully blown cackling and Thomas gaped,

            “You little _bastard_.” His hand came up to his neck and he staggered out of bed, checking himself in the mirror.

            “How _are_ you goin’ to explain that one, Mr. Barrow- don’t think your collar will be hidin’ _those_.” Jimmy voice pitched wildly he was laughing so hard.

            “You little terror- I can’t believe you-” Thomas groaned, poking the marks vainly, before he turned to Jimmy with a menacingly playful smile, stubbing out his cigarette. Jimmy stopped laughing, his eyes wide.

            “No- No, Mr. Barrow- _stop_!”

            “If that’s the way you want to play it.” Thomas got to the bed faster than Jimmy had though possible, and squirmed as Thomas pinned him down, laughing helplessly despite himself-

            “No- no _Thomas_! I’m serious- stop it!”

            Thomas bent and managed to get a fairly good hold on Jimmy’s neck with his mouth, his hands keeping Jimmy as still as he could.

            “No- _o_ you _bastard_!” he clawed at Thomas’ shoulders, feeling heat rise on his face and _ok I have to let him try this some other time because that actually feels quite marvellous._

            “Good luck hiding _that,_ Goldilocks.” Thomas leant up, and went to collect his clothes, smugness _seeping_ from his very being.

            “You bastard- you absolute tosser- you good-for-nothing son of a-”

            “And there’s the gong.” Thomas beamed at Jimmy, something devious in his smile. “Looks like we’ll have to go down as we are… coming?”

            “You complete _bugger_.”

            “Later, Jimmy, later.” Thomas promised as he fixed his coat and his hair, grinning once more before he strode out of the room.

            _I’ll get him for that_ Jimmy thought as he pulled his collar up as high as it would go and stormed after him.

 


End file.
